Step by Step
by kdzl
Summary: AU family fic. Rebuilding life, one step at a time. Mac learns he has a child, Stella struggles being a single mom-includes young Danny and Lindsay. Smacked in later chapters.  Complete for now unless I update later.
1. Chapter 1

**AN/ This idea just kind of stuck around in my head for a while, and I thought I'd post it. There will be Smacked in later chapters, but I don't want to spoil it. So, Claire never died in 9/11 but they divorced. Stella and Louie got together and had Danny, but Louie's not in the picture...right now. And, I think that's all you need to know to enjoy this. **

**AN2/I've also got another (similar) AU that I wrote about the same time as this one, so if you'd like to read that, let me know and maybe I'll post it.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own the show or the characters.**

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* * *

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_"The love of a family is life's greatest blessing."_

_-Anon_

* * *

"Flack!" A familiar young voice called to him from down the hall as Don Flack emerged from the stairwell.

Smiling broadly, Don lifted the seven year old boy into his arms easily. "Slow down Messer."

Danny smirked happily at the greeting and gingerly touched the dark bruise that was starting to form around his eye, before a frazzled Stella Bonasera rounded the corner with a Batman backpack in her hands.

"Daniel Messer!" She sighed exasperatedly as Flack quickly put the boy back down. "You were supposed to wait for me to finish talking to Sheldon."

"Sorry Mom." Danny had the good sense to look slightly abashed, though the quick grin he shot to Flack showed his true lack of remorse.

"Now what is Danny Messer doing out of school early on a weekday?" Flack mused rubbing his chin thoughfully, despite the fact that he already knew the answer since Stella had been called away from a scene by the school to come and pick up her son. If that wasn't enough, Danny's roughed up appearance and shit-eating grin would have been more than enough to clue in the over-worked detective.

Danny's ashamed look was enough to send a lesser man into hysterics, but under Stella's cautious eye, Flack fought the grin that threatened to explode. Poor kid looked as if he ran over somebody's puppy.

"Igotinafight." Danny mumbled so low that Don had to strain to hear. If he hadn't already known what had happened, Danny's explanation would have been indecipherable.

"You what?" Don stifled chuckle at the sight of Stella's angry countenance.

"I got in a fight." Danny admitted more clearly, glancing up to once again witness his mother's wrath.

"A fight! Despite how many times we've talked about not getting into fights—My son got in a fight!" She threw up her arms in exasperation. "Here I'm having a nice day at work and I get a phone call telling me that my seven year old son punched a fifth grader in the face." Stella cried her green eyes danced with fury while she turned to look at Flack incredulously. "Can you believe it?"

Truth be told, Don _could _believe it, but he wasn't about to tell Stella that--especially right now while her anger brewed just beneath the surface. "No. Wow. A fight?" He replied in mock surprise. Danny was a good kid, and though he could get a little hot-headed sometimes, Don was certain that the kid had a good reason.

Stella obviously saw through his placating response and shot him a disapproving look before kneeling down to her son's eye level. "Wait right here, I have to tell Mac why you're here." She scolded seriously, the warning look in her eyes daring him to disobey.

Danny nodded soberly, unwilling to spur his mother onto any further tirades.

"Was he a big fifth grader?" Flack asked in a conspiratorial whisper once the glass door to Mac's office closed.

"Oh, yeah." Danny grinned proudly, "You shoulda seen 'im. He's this huge kid and he came up to Mikey Brown and he tried to take his—"

"Danny." Mac's firm voice interrupted the young boy and Danny cringed noticeably. Stella stood slightly behind Mac with her arms folded in front of her, her face etched with disapproval.

"Hi Mac." He turned around sheepishly, waving awkwardly. "What's up?"

Flack laughed heartily at the situation in front of him before patting the boy on the back and getting back to the precinct. "Good luck Danno."

"Your mom told me you got in a fight." Mac's disapproval was almost tangible as he looked down at the second grader.

"Yeah." Danny sighed, suddenly unable to keep the gaze of the older man who often acted like a surrogate father to him. Heaven knows his own father was barely in his life at all.

"I thought we talked about this last time." Mac's lips were tightened into a line as he looked sternly at the little boy who gulped and looked as though he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

Looking up to his mother's disapproving eyes, Danny nodded sheepishly. "Uh--"

"Oh, we did." Stella agreed, her jaw clenched tightly. "You just wait until I get you home, young man, where we can_ really_ talk about this."

Danny gulped nervously, not at all excited about the prospect.

"Why don't you go wait in my office Danny?" Mac offered, taking pity on the boy who was so obviously ready to get in trouble. "We'll have a little talk, man to man."

Danny winced. "I guess so." He sulked into the office.

"Mac, you don't have to—" Stella tried to stop him. She was grateful that her son had a man in his life, even if it wasn't his father, but she hated feeling as though Mac felt obligated to her and her son.

"Let me talk to him." Mac assured her, grateful for any opportunity that he had to help. "Then you can finish up in Trace and take him home."

"Alright." She relented after a moment, hoping that at least someone could get through to Danny.

* * *

Stella couldn't force herself to keep her eyes on the evidence in front of her. Instead, she watched carefully as Mac and Danny talked. Sighing, she turned back to the evidence at hand. Danny was a bright kid, and the last thing he needed in life was to be labelled as a 'problem child'. She had fought to give him a better childhood than she had received herself, but sometimes, she wondered if it was really enough.

Was it enough to keep him from following in his father's footsteps?

She wasn't sure.

But she'd be damned if she let her only son fall through the cracks.

Not when she'd spent her whole childhood wishing for a family.

Hearing the glass doors open, she smiled up at her longtime friend.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with him." Stella groaned, as Mac entered the room and pulled on his lab coat.

"He's a good kid." Mac defended, pulling on a pair of latex gloves and grabbing the dish with the trace amounts from his earlier case. "He just needs to learn to control his temper."

"I know." Stella dismissed. "He's just too much like his dad."

Mac looked at her cautiously, unsure of what to say. Stella's love life was always a touchy subject—especially when it pertained to Louie Messer. This time, however, Mac couldn't disagree more. "Did he tell you why he punched that kid?" He inquired gently.

"Yeah. Mark—they've had a few run ins before—he was picking on some other kid and Danny stood up to him." Stella admitted quickly, batting away a stray strand of curls that fell into her eyes.

"Sounds like Danny takes after his mother a lot more than he does his dad." Mac observed. As soon as Danny had confessed the circumstances of his suspension, Mac couldn't help but notice the similarity between Danny's fierce desire to protect the defenseless, and Stella's own fiery Greek temper.

Stella smiled appreciatively, remembering all of the instances where she and Mac had been at odds over her own short temper. After a moment, she added "You know Mac, you'd make a really great dad."

"Me? No." He scoffed. Seeing her raised eyebrow, he felt compelled to reply, "I'm not made to be a father." Despite his insistence, Stella was sure she saw a small smirk and sparkle in his eyes at the idea of him being a father. "You know what Stella? I'll finish up here. You take Danny home and take the next couple of days off. You deserve it."

Stella looked at him searchingly for a moment. "Thanks. You sure?"

"Positive." Mac smiled at the delighted sparkle that ignited in her eyes, having no idea that his life was about to change dramatically.

* * *

"Mac Taylor" He answered his phone automatically, not bothering to look up from the files he was studying.

_"Mr. Taylor, this is Ellen Conrad you remember my daughter Claire?"_

Mac's heart dropped momentarily at the thought of his ex-wife. He had always loved Claire, but he had commitments to his country, to the city, and to the lab. Claire was a terrific woman, and deserved far more than he had been able to give her.

"Of course I remember Claire, how is she?" He smiled as he let his mind fall back to the happy times he and Claire had shared. His happy memories were cut off by Ellen's next pronouncement.

_"Dead."_ Ellen said coldly. _"Two months ago."_

Mac sat down on the chair, floored by the revelation. _Two months._ He hadn't known. He knew Claire wanted her space, wanted the ability to start a new life, but for two months, she had been gone. And he hadn't even known.

"I'm sorry." He offered, unsure of what else to say.

_"That's not why I'm calling."_ She stated bluntly, the weariness in her voice seeping through the phone. _"It's about your daughter."_

"My… daughter?" Mac sat back, absolutely floored. He forced his mind to focus on the words she was saying, though he couldn't help but feel dazed.

_"She turns seven next month. Look, Mr. Taylor, I know you didn't know about her, and Claire made me promise to let you live your life, but I just can't give her the attention she needs."_

"Uh—" Mac stated, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

_"I know it's a lot to put on you."_ She started, with a slight condescending tone in her voice _"But Lindsay is your daughter and—"_

"No." Mac snapped quickly to action. "I just didn't know, can I see her? How does this work? Lindsay?" His mind was racing in several directions at the same time.

_"Lindsay. Lindsay Taylor. Like I said, detective, I just can't take care of her anymore."_ Ellen said simply, though Mac had a nagging feeling that she wasn't being completely honest. _"We live in Montana, but I can have her on the first flight out." _

"Okay." Mac blew out his breath, "Can I come get her?" He asked, not knowing whether it was appropriate for a small girl to fly by herself.

_"When can you get here?"_ Ellen breathed out a sigh of relief. _"We'll meet you at the airport and you can take her immediately."_

"I can be out on the first plane out of JFK."

_"Thank heavens."_ Ellen sighed, and Mac stared at the phone in shock. How could any woman be so calloused towards her own granddaughter? Before he could react further, Ellen had rattled off her phone number to call in case anything changed and had ended the call.

Mac stared at the phone in his hand, sure that this could not possibly be happening. One thing was for certain, he needed to get down to the bottom of this.

* * *

"Hey Mac, I've got the results on the Martinez murder." Adam passed the results that he anticipated Mac wanted.

"Adam, I need you to look something up for me, but I need you to keep this between us." Mac instructed, discarding the file that Adam had put in his hands.

"Sure boss." Adam looked at Mac quizzically before spinning his chair around to the computer system. "What do you need?"

"I got a phone call," Mac sighed, "I need you to run a search on birth records for the last ten years."

"Sure, what's the name?"

"Lindsay Taylor."

"Taylor?" Adam looked back in surprise.

Mac nodded curtly. "Taylor."

"None in New York and surrounding areas." Adam's fingers flew over the keyboard as he looked to Mac for further instruction. When Mac hesitated, Adam continued, "Which is kind of weird, you know? It doesn't seem like it'd be that uncommon of a name. I mean—"

"Widen the search." Mac commanded briskly.

"Alright, I have 34 Lindsay Taylor's nationwide, I'm going to need more." Adam wisely kept quiet, waiting for further instructions.

"Any in Montana?" Mac cleared his throat.

"One. Lindsay Monroe Taylor. Born to a Claire Conrad and—woah—" Adam's eyes widened in shock.

"And?" Mac prodded, despite the fact that he could clearly see the record himself. He just needed the confirmation from someone else. This had to be a dream. Claire wouldn't have kept this from him.

"And Mac Taylor."


	2. Chapter 2

_**This is a little different from most of my other stories, but I hope you like it. If not, *shrugs* doesn't matter to me.**_

**_Regular disclaimers apply._**

* * *

Chapter 2

Walking out of the security checkpoint, Mac didn't have to strain to see the small group that he assumed was waiting for him. A woman who looked remarkably like his exwife stood impatiently with a small child nervously standing beside her.

"Mac Taylor?" A woman asked abruptly as he approached them.

"Yes, you must be Ellen." Mac's warm smile was not returned as Ellen quickly took over.

"Here's her birth certificate, her immunization card, medical records, and her school record." She handed him a small stack of paperwork. "That should be it."

Mac looked quizzically down at the paperwork in front of him. He was shocked at the cool demeanor of the woman in front of him. On the phone, he had just assumed her callous nature was the result of trying to arrange for Lindsay's future. Now, he couldn't help but feel an immediate dislike for the older woman.

"Lindsay!" Ellen called sharply as she pried a young girl who was clinging to the back of her leg. "It's time to go."

The little girl seemed to shrink deeper behind Ellen, which only seemed to infuriate the woman more. "Lindsay! This is your father, he's not a stranger, and you're going to live with him. Now be a big girl, it's time to say goodbye." Ellen instructed as she forcefully placed the young girl between her own body and Mac's reluctant figure.

"Goodbye." Ellen said, handing Lindsay's right balled fist over to Mac and retreating without a backwards glance.

Lindsay seemed to shrink from Mac's gaze, as if she were desperate to disappear. Mac's heart broke that instant. Lindsay's resemblance to Claire was unmistakable, and though she desperately avoided his gaze, he couldn't help but detect traces of his own mother's appearance in her features.

"Come on Lindsay, let's go." Mac instructed, unsure of how else to proceed. Truth be told, he was probably as afraid of this little girl as she was of him.

Reluctantly, Lindsay softened and allowed her hand to relax into Mac's grasp.

Mac sighed gratefully. Maybe this wouldn't be as hard as he thought.

* * *

"Lindsay, please. Eat something." Mac commanded gently as he watched the little girl push her food around with her fork. It was almost nine by the time they were seated in a small diner off Park Ave, and he was certain that Lindsay had to be starving.

She barely glanced at him before returning to sculpt her mashed potatoes into a sloped mountain.

"Lindsay Monroe Taylor." Mac's background in the marines surfaced with the authoritative tone in his voice. "We're not leaving until you eat something."

Mac's heart shattered as he watched his daughter duck her head shyly. He wasn't a trained investigator for nothing, and easily detected the tears that began to fall from her angelic face. Suddenly, his harsh stance was easily forgotten as he left his seat to scoop up his daughter comfortingly.

"Come on, let's go home." He settled on, fighting down the lump in his throat at the thought that his daughter might be afraid of him.

As he easily hoisted Lindsay into his arms, he vowed that he would do whatever it took to be her father.

* * *

It didn't take long for Mac to get the exhausted girl settled in the second bedroom of his apartment. He made a mental note to have Stella help him redecorate it before closing the door and padding softly to the couch in the main room of the apartment. He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully as he picked up the stack of files that Ellen Thompson had left him with. He wanted to know everything he could about his daughter. It was slightly disgusting that the only way he could learn about her right now was through paperwork, but he would take whatever he could get.

He thumbed through her school records, impressed by what he saw. By the first grade, she was already reading at a fourth grade level. He swelled with pride at her early placement testing, showing that she had a strong aptitude for math and logical reasoning.

Turning to the last page of the report, he frowned as teachers mentioned for the first time how withdrawn and unresponsive she was. _Lindsay seems to be dealing with lingering effects of the accident._ He read. _She refuses to answer questions in class, or respond vocally to instructions. Hopefully with time this will pass._

Perplexed, he opened her medical file, only to find similar results. Up until several months ago, the young girl was healthy and happy. Then, there was a sudden notation of referrals to child psychologists and mentions of PTSD.

Mac's stomach sank with the realization that something was missing. Having served in Beirut, he knew what PTSD could do to a person, and he wasn't about to let it cripple his daughter as well. Grabbing his laptop, he quickly typed in the name _Lindsay Monroe Taylor_ and wasn't surprised to find that there were few records pertaining to his daughter—since she was a child, her name wouldn't be released to the press.

Thoughtfully, he considered his next step. After a flash of brilliance, he typed into the search engine _Claire Conrad. _A feeling of dread settled inside him as he clicked on one of the news articles from the Bozeman newspaper.

"_Child Trapped for Hours in Accident Claiming Four" _The title of the article read, _"Bozeman. Winter conditions contributed to icy roads and poor visibility which likely led to the death of Claire Conrad 35 and three other unnamed children when their car slid off Highway 75. According to police, Ms. Conrad was driving her daughter and the unnamed children home from a slumber party at her home when the car slid off the road, burying the occupants for hours. Conrad and three children were pronounced dead on the scene. The sole survivor is listed under Critical Condition and will be staying with family. Funeral services—"_ Mac couldn't read any further.

His daughter was a survivor.

* * *

The next day, Mac's worry for his daughter only increased. She refused to eat the breakfast he had made her, and he was certain she had a slight fever. Not wanting to be the overprotective parent, but desperate for some kind of answers, he quickly got Lindsay ready and took her in to the lab, silently thanking the schedule that had Hawkes just finishing his shift that morning.

Dropping Lindsay off in his office, he hesitated for only a minute before beginning his search for the former ME. Peeking his head into the A/V lab, he smiled as he saw the younger man still hard at work.

"Hawkes? Can I see you in my office for a minute?" He asked quickly, trying not to act too impatient, but desperate for answers.

"Sure Mac." Sheldon's chipper attitude would have been infectious if not for the issue that weighed heavily on Mac's mind.

"So it's true." Hawkes concluded as they rounded the corner giving him a clear view of the little girl on Mac's couch. "You're a father."

Mac sighed, running a hand over his clipped dark hair. "Yeah. It's true. I was wondering if you could take a look at her, she hasn't said a word since I met her, and hasn't touched a drop of food since her grandmother left her in my care. I just—"

"It's okay to be worried." Sheldon assured him, gently opening the glass door of Mac's office with Mac following behind.

"Lindsay? This is Dr. Hawkes, he's just going to check you out." Mac instructed cautiously.

"Hi, Lindsay?" Sheldon smiled kindly as he knelt down next to the young girl. "Is it okay if I take a peek at your throat?" He asked gently.

Both men smiled as the young girl clamped her hands tightly over her mouth and shook her head vigorously.

"Lindsay." Mac said warningly. Sheldon had to fight a smirk at the fathering rebuke. Mac might be slightly intimdating as a boss, but the thought of him as a father was downright hilarious.

Reluctantly, Lindsay acquiesced, though the annoyed huff she gave was evidence enough that she was not happy about it.

Sheldon quickly smiled and patted the girl on the shoulder. "You were very brave Lindsay." Hawkes carefully avoided letting the surprise show on his face-the last thing he wanted to do was scare the seven year old.

Turning to Mac, he nodded toward Mac's newfound daughter. "You need to get her to the hospital." He whispered, confirming Mac's worst fear. "She's one sick little girl."

* * *

"Where's Mac?" Stella asked later that day as she strode into the crime lab. Two days off had been invigorating, despite the fact that Danny's two-week suspension loomed over her head.

"He had to take his daughter to the hospital." Adam said, barely looking over the microscope slide he was studying intently.

"His _what_?" Stella chuckled after a moment, sure that she heard incorrectly.

"Mhmm?" Adam asked as he continued to study the fiber in front of him.

"His what?" She repeated.

When he didn't respond, she said sharply "Adam!"

"Huh?" He asked in surprise, finally looking at her and realized her confusion. "Oh, haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?" Stella asked, her lips turning into a small smile as she chuckled at the suddenly flustered Adam Ross.

"About Mac's daughter, she's in the hospital." Adam informed her, completely forgetting that Stella hadn't been in the lab since Mac's former mother-in-law had called.

"His what?" Stella again was certain that there was no way she could have heard that correctly. She had known Mac longer than any other person in the lab. If he had a daughter, she would certainly know.

"It's probably better if I show you." Adam's head was whirling from the back and forth conversation. "I was going to go visit anyway during lunch. You wanna come?"

"This I've got to see." Even if there was the remote possibility that this could be true, she definitely had to see this with her own eyes.

* * *

Mac sat outside the waiting room of the hospital with a cup of coffee in hand. The doctors had insisted he leave his daughter's side while they completed necessary tests—but hopefully that would be over soon. The look in Lindsay's eyes when she learned he would be leaving her had torn at his heart, and he vowed never to allow that look to cross her features again.

"Mac?" Stella queried as she saw her long time friend in the waiting area.

"Stella? Adam? What are you doing here?" Mac asked.

"We're here to see your _daughter._" Stella still wasn't sure that this wasn't some big prank that the office decided to pull on her.

"They asked me to leave." Mac sighed with frustration, rubbing his temple. "We should be able to go back any minute."

"So it's true?" Stella stared at Mac blankly.

Mac chuckled when he realized what had to be going through Stella's mind. "Yeah, a lot has happened in the past couple of days."

"I'll say." Adam agreed.

Mac glared at him warningly and easily broke Adam's resolve.

"Um, sorry." Adam stuttered. "It's just—I thought Lindsay might like—" He held out a comic book towards Mac, "But, I probably should have asked you first. I mean, you're her dad and-"

"Mr. Taylor? You can come back in now." A nurse interrupted smiling as she peaked her head out the door.

"Why don't you give her that yourself?" Mac suggested, nodding towards the comic book. He couldn't help but frown at the realization that he didn't know if his own daughter liked comic books or if she was more of a girly girl.

Entering the small curtained area, Stella had to suppress her shock at the sight of the little girl in front of her. The resemblance to Mac was unmistakable, though her hair was lighter and curled into soft ringlets that framed her face which reminded her of Mac's ex-wife.

"Lindsay? This is Adam and Stella. They're my friends. They wanted to say hi."

"Hi." Stella smiled warmly. The girl seemed to study her for a moment before returning a small shy smile.

"Hey." Adam greeted uncomfortably. "Whaddup?" He broke the silence with a characteristic greeting that served to widen Lindsay's smile. "Hey, listen, I brought you this, but I don't even know if you'll like it—it's one of my favorites."

Lindsay accepted the comic book with wide eyes, her excitement obvious to all three adults in the room.

"Do you like comic books Lindsay?" Mac asked with a smile, delighted to find something that interested her.

Lindsay nodded as she reverently opened the comic book.

"What do you say to Adam?" Mac prodded, knowing that she likely wouldn't answer, but willing to try regardless.

Lindsay looked up from the comic and offered Adam a real smile. "Thanks." She almost whispered, the scratchiness in her voice revealing the sore throat that had gone undetected for so long.

Stella immediately switched into 'Mommy Mode'. "How are you feeling Lindsay?"

The little girl shrugged and looked back to the new piece of reading material. "She's got a bad case of strep." Mac informed Stella gently. "They don't think they need to take out her tonsils but we're waiting to see if the antibiotic kicks in. She'll probably be here a few days."

Stella nodded absently as she eyed the little girl closely. Lindsay seemed to feel the inspecting gaze of the older woman and shrunk back slightly. Stella sensed the girl's unease and stepped up immediately.

"You know, my son Danny really likes comic books too—he has a big collection. I'm sure he'd be happy to let you borrow some if you want to." Stella suggested and smirked as the little girl smiled like she suspected.

Lindsay gulped and winced slightly at the pain, "Really?" She asked excitedly.

"Absolutely."

* * *

"Mom," Danny whined as Stella ushered him up the stairs of Mac's apartment building, "Why d'we gotta come _here? _We were gonna play baseball at the park."

"Don't mess with me young man." Stella warned, suppressing a smirk as she juggled the pizza box in her hand to press the elevator button. "You may go back to school tomorrow, but you're still grounded."

"But mom, these are _my_ comic books—" Danny started, but was cut off by Stella's raised eyebrow—daring him to continue his defiance.

"Daniel Messer." Stella said, the tone of her voice cutting off any further argument, "Lindsay has been through a lot. She needs a friend." Mac's daughter had come home from the hospital only days earlier, and she was certain both father and daughter could use some cheering up. Stepping into the elevator, she smiled as her son carefully followed and pushed the button to Mac's floor.

"Fine." Danny groaned unhappily.

"Don't roll your eyes at me." Stella commented without looking as the elevator doors opened. Walking quickly to apartment number 5, she knocked quickly at the door. After a moment, she could hear rustling as Mac came to open the door.

"Stella?" He asked, a smile forming immediately. "Danny? This is a nice surprise."

"Hey Mac, we brought pizza." Stella informed him, taking in his slightly haggard and very un-Mac-like appearance.

"Isn't that great Lindsay?" Mac asked his daughter who was currently clinging to the back of his pants, attempting to get a good look at their visitors, but wanting to use him as a shield for protection.

Lindsay nodded slightly, eyeing Danny with curiosity as she followed Mac to maintain his protective barrier between him and their guests.

"Lindsay, this is Danny." Stella began the introductions. "Danny, say hi to Lindsay."

"How you doin'." Danny greeted, though Stella could easily detect his nervousness.

"Hi." Mac suppressed a startled look at his daughter's sudden abandonment of the shyness that he had become accustomed to.

"Danny brought over some of his comic books, he thought you might like them." Stella prodded as Danny smiled widely.

"Hey Cowgirl," Mac smiled down at his daughter who could barely contain her excitement, "You and Danny want to go check them out in your room?"

Watching as the two children scampered down the hall, Stella smiled. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."


End file.
